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And the poem, I think, is only your voice speaking.
Virginia Woolf
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Virginia Woolf
Age: 59 †
Born: 1882
Born: January 25
Died: 1941
Died: March 28
Author
Autobiographer
Diarist
Essayist
Feminist
Literary Critic
Novelist
Publisher
Short Story Writer
Writer
London
England
Virxhinia Ulf
Virginia yo juanito Adeline Woolf
Virg̔inyah Vold
Virdžiniâ Vulf
Virdzhiniia Vulf
Virzhinia Ulf
Virginia Stephen
Virzhin︠iia Ulf
Adeline Virginia Stephen
Virginyah Volf
Adeline Virginia Woolf
Virginia Adeline Woolf
Adeline Virginia Stephen Woolf
Birtzinia Gulph
Virginia Stephen Woolf
Woolf
Virginia
1882-1941
Poem
Speaking
Voice
Think
Thinking
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Once she knows how to read there's only one thing you can teach her to believe in and that is herself.
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I am not so gifted as at one time seemed likely.
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To enjoy freedom ... we have of course to control ourselves. We must not squander our powers, helplessly and ignorantly, squirting half the house in order to water a single rose.
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We scarcely wish to analyse what we feel to be so large and deeply human.
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The habit of writing for my eye is good practice. It loosens the ligaments.
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Until we can comprehend the beguiling beauty of a single flower, we are woefully unable to grasp the meaning and potential of life itself.
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There are no teachers, saints, prophets, good people, but the artists.
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Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself.
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How then did it work out, all this? How did one judge people, think of them? How did one add up this and that and conclude that it is liking one felt, or disliking?
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To read a novel is a difficult and complex art.
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I often wish I'd got on better with your father,' he said.
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I’m not clear enough in the head to feel anything but varieties of dull anger and arrows of sadness.
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Ransack the language as he might, words failed him. He wanted another landscape, and another tongue.
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Habits and customs are a convenience devised for the support of timid natures who dare not allow their souls free play.
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Biography is to give a man some kind of shape after his death.
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Then may I tell you that the very next words I read were these – ‘Chloe liked Olivia…’ Do not start. Do not blush. Let us admit in the privacy of our own society that these things sometimes happen. Sometimes women do like women.
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fishing teaches a stern morality inculcates a remorseless honesty.
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One wanted, she thought, dipping her brush deliberately, to be on a level with ordinary experience, to feel simply that's a chair, that's a table, and yet at the same time, It's a miracle, it's an ecstasy.
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I will go down with my colours flying.
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For nothing was simply one thing.
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